the psychology of frivolity

Because I now have only one over-riding (immediate) aim in life: to forget Cavé, my life has become simple, almost fun and exciting, in a comic way.

I am always trying to find things to do, to find things to be excited about, put inordinate amount of thought and effort into things I would not have cared about before.

For example, I have a Moulin-Rouge themed house party coming up, and I have expended a not unsubstantial amount of consideration and effort into what I will wear. I did research: googled moulin rouge sites and images. Considered ideas, discarded them. Emailed P for his opinion. I even went shopping this weekend!

Not just for the theme party of course, but to catch the tail end of the Christmas sales. But the theme party provided a motivating force to pound the streets and browse through the rails and rails of discounted clothing. - I am not the kind of girl who can be arsed to just "window shop" unless I have something specific I am looking for.


This weekend's shopping turned out to be fairly fruitful - a brown satin corset top from Coast I'd been eyeing for ages and is now finally half price. A three-quarter length tube dress also from Coast. A pair of knee-length black suede boots from Bertie (my first knee-length boots), which I would say would approximately deserve the term "come-fuck-me" boots, despite not being stillettos.

And I think I have an outfit - my new brown satin corset top, paired with an existing three-quarter asymmetric black skirt (not the best length admittedly), along with my new boots, a hat I bought a couple of seasons ago which can approximate a top hat, and then either long black gloves (to be obtained) or a black feather boa (Ann Summers, £4), or both!

Although, I have to say, the entire outfit (the corset, skirt, boots and hat) look quite dark though, so I might have to consider some bling to brighten it up.

Cousin J said she couldn't believe I was so into the theme party and that I should be given an A for effort, if nothing else. It's completely frivolous of course, this obsession. But it keeps my active mind from being otherwise occupied. I am beginning to have some sympathy for frivolous high society women, and women in olden times, who had spend time pimping, preening, and engage in malicious rumours, gossip, and plotting. The truth is, every mind needs to be occupied. And if one does not have useful employment which utilises brain power, then the human mind will seize the first object(s) it can to pore over.